


Dead and Buried

by Anonymous



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Character Death, Horror, Murder, Mystery, Other, Post-Season/Series 01, Riverdale gets no breaks, Romance isn't core
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 07:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11099652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Jason Blossom and his father are buried. Cheryl Blossom and Fred Andrews are alive, if barely. The town of Riverdale hopes against hope that at least peace and tranquility will be restored to them. Archie Andrews and his friends, still scarred by the events of the past few months, begin to put together their shattered lives, secure in the knowledge that at least they have one another to help.If only people didn't start going missing in Riverdale.If only kids at school didn't start acting in weird, unusual ways.If only the Blossoms hadn't begun all those odd renovations up on Thornhill...





	Dead and Buried

**Author's Note:**

> I have a general idea where I'm going with this, but...not many specifics. It's probably gonna get weird.

When Veronica Lodge hears that Chuck Clayton has gone missing, she feels bad. Mostly because she doesn’t feel bad. At all.

 One day he doesn’t show up to school. He doesn’t show up the next day either. The third day students are called down one by one to Weatherby’s office to speak with one of Sherrif Keller’s deputies. The fourth day, the posters start going up. Chuck’s chiseled, smiling face, belying his abrasive nature, over the big, bold words;

  **Have You Seen Me?**

Veronica’s not surprised that soon, people begin to stare at her and Betty in the halls. Everyone who attends Riverdale High (and plenty who don’t) knows about the swift revenge they took upon Chuck a few short months ago. Would it be such a stretch to assume they might have gone a step further?

 Yes, actually it would. It would be a massive stretch of Herculean proportions. But that doesn’t stop people from talking. It never did. So Veronica ignores them. Just like she did in the city. Just like she’s always done. Just like she tells Betty to do. She knows it isn’t about them, anyway. The dread in the air is palpable. It has only been some two months since Clifford Blossom hanged himself in his own barn, courteously sparing the town the shame and distress of a media-circus trial. Riverdale had dared to hope, to _pray_ that with both Blossom men in the cold ground, some semblance of normalcy might at last return to the little country town. Then Chuck fucking Clayton, star football player and all-around nasty human being, had to go and disappear and dash all of those hopes against the wall.

 Yes, the dread and the fear and the anger hang thick in the air as Veronica fills her tray with stiff, tasteless pasta and slides into her seat opposite Betty and Kevin, and next to Archie.

 “Hey.”

 “Hey.” Betty says, forcing it rather obviously. A moment of uncomfortable silence passes. Veronica sighs.

 “Alright. I’ll say it. Chuck Clayton, right?”

 Archie sighs too. Betty just stares.

 “He probably just had a fight with his parents or something and ran off. I doubt it’s much more.” Archie offers feebly.

 “That’s what other people are saying. Cause this town’s been through enough, right? Our nightmare is supposed to be over.”

 “It _is_.” Betty finally interjects. Her voice is strained, high. “This will turn out to be nothing. I’ll bet you anything. At worst, he couldn’t take the heat anymore and ran off from home and will be back in a week or two.”

 “Maybe.” Veronica nods. That little voice in her head whispering; “ _you should feel worse about this.”_ Won’t shut the hell up.

 “Look guys.” Betty pleads. “Can we please just talk about something else? I’ve- _we’ve_ been through _way_ too much lately.

 Kevin, uncharacteristically silent since Veronica arrived, finally speaks.

 “I think the Bulldogs are cursed. First Jason and now Chuck. Who’s next, A-“

 Veronica shoots him a death glare, and he falls silent.

 “Who _cares_ anyway, Archies?” They recognize the voice before they see her, of course. Cheryl Blossom’s domineering tone is instantly recognizable, especially now that she’s picked up the annoying habit of collectively referring to Archie Andrews and his friends as ‘the Archies’. And today, they’ve made the fatal mistake of speaking loud enough to be overheard by her as she makes her way to her own table. “The guy was a total creep, anyway. You all hated him more than anyone. Let’s be honest, who _really_ cares?”

 “As I recall, Cheryl.” Betty replies. “It _was_ you that enlisted him to help ruin Jughead’s birthday party.”

 Cheryl shrugs apologetically.

 "Well. You use poison to kill rats. Doesn’t mean you like drinking the poison.”

 With that, she’s gone.

 Betty shakes her head.

 “You’d think she’d have mellowed out a little since-“

 “Oh, come on. She has. You know she has.” Veronica cuts in. “She’s just keeping up appearances.”

 There’s another moment of awkward, unwanted silence.

* * *

 

 Fred Andrews sits up in his hospital bed and smiles as his son enters the room.

 “Hey, Archie!”

 “Hey, dad.” Archie responds, suppressing the grimace that rises to the surface each time he sees his father like this. Fred lost more blood than Archie knew men had in their bodies. The doctors said he would almost certainly make a full recovery, and yet…it still hurt, still prickled, to see him like this.

 “How you doing?”

 “How am _I_ doing? Dad, you’re the one who got _shot_.” Both share a relieved, if nervous laugh.

 “Nevertheless.”

 The visit is a brief one. Short, really. It’s a school night, and the doctors insist Fred needs rest more than anything anyhow. The formalities are covered. Archie reports on his grades and his friends. Fred assures him that he’s alright and ought to be home soon. There are mutually assuring smiles.

 And then;

 “Archie, I’ve heard about this Chuck Clayton business.”

 “Yeah dad…it’s…it’s weird. It’s bad timing. Terrible timing, really.”

 Fred turns to his son. His face is stone. There is no hint of humor or levity.

 “Son. It’s probably nothing. Probably the kid just ran off from home. But…I want you to promise you’ll stay out of this. _Completely._ ”

 “Yeah, dad. No sweat.”

 “That business with Jason Blossom was more than enough mystery and murder to last you and your friends a life time. I’m proud of what you did but…you only need to do it once. Let this alone, Archie, I’m serious.”

 Archie nods.

 “Of course.”

 “Jughead, too.”

 “What?”

 “You know Jughead. He thinks he’s Truman Capote. Maybe someday, he will be, but he’s not right now. Make sure he stays out of trouble, will you?”

“Of course, dad.” Archie chuckles. “And, don’t worry. I’m pretty sure Jughead’s had his fill of mystery, too. For the time being.”

 Fred smiles, relieved.

 “Alright. Good, good. I’ll see you later Archie. Drop by if you want, when you want, but I ought to be home real soon.”

 “Yeah. I’ll see you soon dad.”

 And with that, Archie was gone, knowing full well that Jughead had _not,_ by any stretch of the imagination, ‘had his fill of mystery’.

 

* * *

 “Come on. You guys don’t really buy this ‘he ran away from home’ story, do you?”

 Betty shrugs.

 “It…I don’t know, Juggy.”

 “We’re talking about a kid who swaggered back into school a week after a sexual harassment related expulsion without a hint of contrition, and people are unironically saying he left Riverdale because he ‘couldn’t take the heat’ anymore.” Jughead sips his milkshake and laugh.

 “And you don’t think we have a _second,_ totally unrelated missing persons case on our hands in a few months, do you Jughead?” Archie teases. “Now, granted everything that’s happened is less than probable, but that’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

 “Yeah, yeah.” Jughead agrees. “Maybe they’re not totally unrelated. Come on, two months after the Jason debacle is finally over and done with, _another_ football player goes missing. And you think _that_ ’s a coincidence? A _little_ weird don’t you think?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s weird.” Kevin cuts in. “ _That_.”

 He stretches out a hand, pointing across Pop’s to a table at the opposite end. Because there, each with a strawberry milkshake in hand, talking animatedly, sit Cheryl Blossom and Dilton Doiley.

 “Are those…Cheryl and _Dilton_?” Archie asks, incredulous.

 “None other.” Kevin replies.

 “Eerie…” Veronica breathes.

 “Strange times.” Quips Jughead. The unlikely pair is too far off for anything of their conversation to be heard, but the shifting eyes and hushed tones suggest conspiracy.

 “Now _there_ ’s a sitcom waiting to happen.” Kevin laughs.

 Veronica shakes her head. “She’s been a little…different. Ever since, well, you know. I think it's a better different, though.”

 “What’s _off_ for Cheryl Blossom?” Archie asks.

 “Well…to be blunt she’s been much less bitchy. I mean we’ve actually gotten through more than one cheer practice without the usual barrage of insults and put-downs.

 “There’s more than one new oddity to come out of the Blossoms” Jughead says. “How about that weird lightning rod they had installed up on Thornhill?”

 “Lightning rod?” Archie asks.

“Yep. A crew came by in the dead of night and set it up. Tall metal spire with a bunch of wires leading down the base of the house.”

 “Maybe they don’t want the house to burn down again?” Betty ventures.

 “Sure” Jughead smiles. “That’s the official explanation.”

 “Always smell a story, don’t you Jug?” Archie says. “They’re probably just testing out some new clean energy scheme or something.”

 “Maybe it’s a really metal satellite dish.” Kevin jokes.

 It’s not the funniest joke he’s ever made, but it does the job, and everyone is eager to laugh, anyway. Finally, the conversation manages to steer away from Blossoms and conspiracy and missing teenagers, and find its way to more benign topics. Even Cheryl and Dilton, still engrossed in their conversation across the restaurant, fade into the background. Perhaps another hour passes, until Jughead finally says;

 “Well guys, I probably should be going. I don’t want to start my first week off with my…new parents by showing up two hours after nightfall while there’s a killer on the loose. Again.”

 “Not funny, Jughead.” Betty snaps.

 He shrugs, and then offers an apology in the form of a soft kiss, before turning to leave.

 His departure triggers a chain reaction, and soon the booth is empty, and the friends file out of the restaurant into a chilly Riverdale night.

 As Veronica exits, last in line, she passes by Dilton and Cheryl at their table. All she catches is a few short words, a slice of the conversation, but it’s enough to set the wheels in her head spinning in an unwanted direction.

 “Cheryl, I built something that did what you wanted it to do. Everything after that, well…it’s out of my hands.”

 “It’s been _weeks_ Doiley. I’m sorry, but I’m starting to get a _little_ impatient. What is this, like number four?”

 Veronica tells herself she’ll forget about it. It’s nothing. A project for school, maybe. But of course, she won’t. And it isn’t.

 

* * *

 

Cheryl Blossom makes the rainy drive up to Thornhill, her face and her heart darkened. Dilton fucking Doiley. It had been months and all he had to show for it was a damn lightshow. Is _that_ what she was paying him for?

The great mansion loomed above her, dark and terrible in its place of honor over Riverdale. The gates opened, automatically, and her car slowly crept inside.

 She _would_ see this through. No question about that.

**Author's Note:**

> I've restored Dilton's 'genius scientist' personality from the comics (along with his weird survivalist one from the show)


End file.
